The Second Mother

The late 20th century was a time for global societies to embrace the opportunity to shed their colonial pasts and move toward a more equal footing. Brazil began its transformation a bit later than most. Not until the election of President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva in 2003 did Brazilian society truly embark to move beyond its distinct class and social systems and open up opportunities to those confined into lesser strata. Just as it was common for white families in the segregated U.S. south to employ African American nannies to conduct their housekeeping and raise their children, the Brazilian upper crust established in the country’s urban centers hired their nannies from the slums and rural areas. So women could work outside the home, they would hire nannies that would in turn leave their own children; an odd but accepted practice. Anna Muylaert’s The Second Mother, Brazil’s official submission for the 2016 Oscars as Best Foreign Film, shows audiences one particular situation of a live-in nanny who is all things to her employers, but expected to adhere to rigorous cultural norms of separateness. The film is social commentary through and through, but it leaves the audience with such a deep impression of the lead character, we can’t help but almost stand up and cheer for the woman. Val (Regina Casé) lives with her employers in a posh São Paulo neighborhood. She wakes them up, cooks, cleans, listens, raises the boy from child to late teenager, and really seems to love the family. She sets the dining room table but does not eat there. She prepares the morning toast and coffee, but dares not sit down to converse. She wakes Dr. Carlos (Lourenço Mutarelli), the aimless, habitually buzzed father, at 11 o’clock in the morning but rises before the household and retires after them. The matriarch, Barbara (Karine Teles), is kind to Val but in a borderline patronizing manner. A new coffee set Val buys for Barbara’s birthday, one considered ultra-modern and chic by Val, immediately goes into storage for a special occasion. Val thinks it is the most clever thing in the world that the cup is white and the saucer is black and it is fascinating for us to sit back and watch her puzzle over such a simple coffee set and wonder about its thermos.

Don’t let this example mislead you; Val is not intellectually inferior. She is from the poor northeast. Her accent and slang are considered punch lines and she just laughs along with the rest of them when someone points out what she used to sound like. Val has a special relationship with the child she has mostly raised for the family, Fabinho (Michel Joelsas). They have their own code words, they are far more affectionate than Fabinho is with Barbara, and the family has such an efficient and reliable routine, it even knocks the audience for a loop when the new variable in the equation spins the household all out of order.

Val’s estranged daughter from back home, Jessica (Camila Márdila) shows up in São Paulo to try and get into an elite university. Moving in with the family, Barbara, intentionally or not, references the changing socioeconomic climate by pointing out how remarkable it is a girl from a second tier state may now attempt to apply for the same university her son is trying to get into. Val expects Jessica to sleep on a mattress in her stifling, cubbyhole room and act her place as the maid’s daughter. Jessica will do nothing of the sort.

Acquitting herself as a guest of the household, Jessica, to the utter dismay and embarrassment of Val, moves into the guest room, loafs around all day, asks to eat Fabinho’s special ice cream, attracts a bit too much attention from Dr. Carlos, and to the shock of everyone, dares to get into the swimming pool. We’ve all seen the awkward house guest plot before but it all bites a bit deeper this time around because of the myriad class lines overtly crossed and shattered. Naturally, Barbara and Jessica turn hostile to one another, Dr. Carlos is infatuated, Fabinho has teenaged male thoughts on his mind, and Val is dumbfounded on what to do.

How it all shakes out is run of the mill plot progression but what makes The Second Mother so enjoyable is Regina Casé’s performance as Val. Casé is very well known in Brazil and appears to have her own roots from the northeast. Watching her die of shame every time Jessica does something unimaginable or break an unwritten rule herself when nobody is watching is observing one of the year’s best performances. Take note toward the end of Val wading in a particular body of water and splashing around. The amazement on her face at what she is doing is exactly what millions of Brazilians considered achievable in the era after Lula da Silva’s election and is a scene I will not soon forget. Muylaert’s themes in The Second Mother such as upstairs/downstairs divisions and class assignments based on colonial era norms are tried and true, but she presents them in a fresh perspective. The film’s English translation of its Portuguese title is “When will she be back?” referencing the absent working mother. Child rearing in Brazil is considered low class which is why those with means outsource the job to others as they leave their own children behind. A peculiar social paradox, one presented here with drama and a surprising amount of comedy.